


The Trouble With Elvis

by MachaSWicket



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 10:58:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1172235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MachaSWicket/pseuds/MachaSWicket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SUMMARY:   Luke and Lorelai decide to go on a road trip.  And then things get interesting.  This story was written for the Luke/Lorelai ficathon (2005?), elements requested by Lara.</p><p>ORIGINALLY POSTED:  2005?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Trouble With Elvis

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: These characters belong to Amy Sherman-Palladino.
> 
> THANKS: To Jo, Em, and kate for the mad beta services. :)

"Oh, Luuuuuuke."

He'd never been able to ignore her, but he thought he'd give it a shot. Walking across the diner, he threw the deadbolt and pointedly did not look her way.

"C'mon, Luke," Lorelai wheedled, as he flipped the sign to "CLOSED." "We need to celebrate. When's the last time I was in a relationship for a whole year?"

He shot her an exasperated look. "Never?" he guessed, a slight edge to his voice, yanking the blinds so hard they rattled a little before falling closed. "And for future reference, bringing up your many, many boyfriends is not the way to convince me to do something."

Lorelai pulled an offended face. "What am I, Moll Flanders?"

He looked at her blankly, not an uncommon occurrence in their conversations. "Who?"

"Viv Ward?" she tried. "Miss Mona out at the Chicken Ranch?"

Luke just shook his head and turned back to the blinds. No need to give Miss Patty any more grist for the rumor mill.

"Never mind," Lorelai sighed, tapping her nails on the countertop. "Can't expect the pop culture indoctrination to happen overnight. Oh, wait!" She feigned surprise. "It's _not_ overnight. In fact, it's been--"

"A year," Luke interrupted, circling the counter to grab a rag. "Yes, believe me, it has been a year."

"Look at that!" Lorelai instructed the air beside her. "Less than a year and the magic's gone."

Luke rolled his eyes and scrubbed a little harder at what looked like a couple drops of coffee. She really was amusing when she was like this, but hell if he'd let her know that. "There was magic?"

"Mean!" she gasped. 

"You," he said, relenting and leaning over to kiss her, "are a lot of work."

Lorelai grinned and waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "But I'm the best kind of work."

Luke snorted out a laugh. "True."

"So we can go somewhere?" she asked, giddy with excitement. "Just for a weekend?"

Luke nodded. "Which brings us to--"

"Where are we gonna go!?" Lorelai chirped. "Oooh, this is so exciting. We could go to New York or Boston, or down to D.C. Atlanta. Oooh, Savannah," she suggested, adopting a truly hideous Southern accent. "I could wear all white and hit on my field hands." She gave him a coquettish look. "I do declare!"

"You don't have field hands," Luke pointed out. Lorelai and logic weren't very well acquainted, but Luke did his best to bring them closer together whenever possible. "And why are you naming cities? Why don't we go to the shore? Or to the mountains."

Lorelai wrinkled her nose. "Nature?"

"Lorelai--"

"I mean, I _like_ nature, don't get me wrong," she said, and he recognized the introduction to one of her ceaseless rambles. "I just prefer to visit it in shorter increments. Like, perhaps, half a day. That way I get a little sun, I get a little tan, and no bugs touch me."

"I'm not suggesting we go camping," Luke reminded her.

"Oh," she answered. "Good. Because I was going to have to remind you of the time I found a spider in my shower and--"

"I remember," he interrupted with a smirk. Did he ever remember. One of the top ten sexual experiences of his life, that day. "You really shouldn't answer your door in a towel. I can't be held responsible if you're naked when I walk in."

Lorelai gave him a wicked grin. "I wasn't naked."

Leaning in, Luke raised an eyebrow. "Close enough." His palm landed on her thigh and started to slide slowly, slowly up. "Those legs of yours were bare."

She pressed closer, her arm encircling his rib cage. " _You_ were the one who was overdressed on that particular occasion," she observed, giving his flannel shirt a pointed tug.

Luke snickered. "I'm not Kirk. I don't go running around the town naked."

Lorelai licked his neck, her tongue rasping across his stubble, and he tried not to shudder. He was so distracted it took a moment for her words to register when she said, "You should. You've got a much better ass than Kirk."

"Please," Luke groaned, pulling away to give her a sour look. "Don't ever compare my -- body -- to Kirk's."

She beamed at him, unapologetic. Her amused beauty was a little bit blinding; it always had been. "Great ass," she nodded. "Kirk is too skinny. I mean, I _like_ lanky, but--"

"Stop talking," Luke ordered, kissing her in what had proven over the past year to be the best method to shut her up. It had also proven to be one of his favorite things to do. As always, it got out of control pretty quickly, and suddenly his hand was under her shirt pressed flat against her spine, and her fingers were curled into his belt loops to pull him closer.

"Let's go upstairs," Lorelai breathed into his neck.

Luke groaned. "I have to finish cleaning up." Damn. He should've taken Lane up on her offer to close for him a couple nights a week.

"Do it in the morning."

Luke snorted. "This is a place of business, Lorelai. It's not sanitary to leave food out overnight--"

"We'll come back in a half hour and finish," she suggested, her fingers inching along the waistband of his jeans, sliding across the sensitive skin of his abdomen. "I'll even help."

Laughing, Luke disentangled himself. "First of all, your help only ends up making this a longer and more frustrating process. Second," he continued, talking right over her offended yelp, "a half hour? That's a little insulting."

Lorelai leaned over the counter, grinning when his gaze dropped to her cleavage. "Prove me wrong," she offered. 

Hesitating for a long moment, Luke finally tossed the rag over his shoulder and grabbed her hand, dragging her off of her stool. "You better help me clean up," he grumbled pulling her upstairs.

***

"We could take a train!" Lorelai exclaimed, nearly an hour later, sitting suddenly upright in Luke's bed.

With a heartfelt groan, Luke attempted to tug her back down. "Would you stop it?"

"Think about it," she said excitedly, shifting to sit cross-legged on the bed. The only reason he could concentrate at all was that she'd pulled on one of his flannel shirts. It was still a pretty close call. Lorelai didn't seem at all affected by his bare torso; she just kept rattling on, painting fanciful pictures in the air with her words. "I'd have to get one of those suits, you know, like Hildy Johnson? 'We can still catch the 4:30 train to Albany,'" she said, slipping into one of her many, many impressions.

Luke wasn't entirely sure which movie she was quoting, but it was safer to just nod in agreement.

"Oh, and a hat," she added. "I'd have to have one of those stylish, 40s-looking hats."

"Okay, but you do realize that it's not going to be the 1940s on the train, right?" Luke asked, more because it was expected than because he had any illusions that she'd let reality intrude on her fantasies. 

"Maybe it'll be a *magic* train," she countered, eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh! The Hogwarts Express!"

With a slight shake of his head, Luke said, "The what?"

"Hogwarts Express," Lorelai repeated, her tone suggesting his lack of recognition was an indication of serious mental deficiency. "You know, the big red train that leaves from platform nine and three-quarters? Harry Potter? Hello?"

"Oh," Luke said. "It's a _kids'_ movie."

Her smirk was positively wicked. "So is Finding Nemo, and you watched _that_."

Luke grimaced. "I lost a bet."

Lorelai bounced a little, she was enjoying taunting him so damn much. "That Rory sure can pick 'em. Surprising," she continued, with an exaggerated look of innocence, "since she's never actually sat through a baseball game." 

Luke rolled onto his side and propped his head up on one hand. "She picked the Red Sox against the Yankees. How can you live in New England and know nothing about those two teams?"

She gave him a mock offended look. "I know they're _baseball_ teams."

He didn't bother to answer aloud, but she barely noticed.

"Oooh!" she squealed and squeezed his thigh through the sheet. "Or we could be like The Lady Vanishes!"

"Except for the vanishing part, I'd guess," Luke interjected reasonably. 

"Yes," she answered. "Good thing I'm not a blonde."

He tried, he really did, but he had no idea what the hell she was talking about. "What?"

" _The Lady Vanishes_?" Lorelai repeated. "Hitchcock? Blonde women in his movies always die." 

"Ah," Luke answered, choosing not to pursue that subject further. "Again, I point out that boarding a train does not magically propel you into a movie."

"You're no fun," she said, but she was grinning. "Trains are so retro. Oh! You could wear a fedora!"

"I am not wearing a fedora."

"Oh, c'mon, Luke! You'd look great in a fedora!" she enthused. "Very Indiana Jones."

He just glared at her.

"Well, you wouldn't _have_ to carry the whip," Lorelai continued in her faux-innocent tone. "I mean, that's all sexy and stuff, but you can just--"

Luke hadn't become a high school football star without learning how to tackle someone; he rolled her body beneath his. "You suggesting I'm not sexy just the way I am?"

Lorelai laughed like she did everything -- with every ounce of energy in her body. "Wow," she said after a minute. "We really _have_ been together a while. You're starting to sound like me."

Luke's jaw actually dropped. "What?"

She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. "You've got a great pout."

"I do _not_ pout," Luke protested, rolling off of her to, well, pout.

Snickering, Lorelai sat back up and grinned down at him. "Aww, wook at wittle Wuke--"

"Do _not_ talk baby talk at me. I am _not_ pouting."

But Lorelai squeezed his cheeks, making his lips pucker in a truly ridiculous fashion. She pretended to inspect him carefully, tilting her head from one side to the other before giving an authoritative nod. "Yes. Class-A pout."

Then she leaned in and kissed him thoroughly, and he wasn't really all that interested in the pouting thing anymore. Her body slid over his, finding the way they fit together so ridiculously well and he didn't care about the pouting thing anymore.

***

"Oh," Lorelai said the next morning as the first jolt of caffeine kicked in. She was slumped at the counter, watching Luke blearily. "I can't believe I didn't think of this before!" 

Luke didn't bother to reply; he could tell from her windup that outside participation was unnecessary at this point in her conversation.

She frowned slightly at the coffee cup cradled in her hands. "It was the train riff. See? I got distracted by the trains when I should've been thinking about _this_."

He did his best to ignore her, he really did, but he'd learned long ago that resistance was futile.

"Aren't you going to ask?" she demanded, right on cue. He wasn't sure whether it was the coffee or whatever insane idea was flitting around in that brain of hers, but she was sitting upright now, looking quite chipper.

Luke topped off her coffee cup. "Nope."

"Luke!"

"You're going to tell me whether I ask or not, so I'll save myself the effort," he answered. "Besides, I have customers."

"Spoilsport."

"Chatterbox."

Luke did his best to ignore her, but she really was the best pouter he'd ever seen. He was standing across the room facing the opposite direction and he could just _feel_ the sorrowful gaze trained on his back. He didn't even need to turn around to picture the sad moué.

He caved. "Oh, would you just tell me what it is?"

She tilted her head, watching him as he stalked back across the diner toward her. "If you ask nicely."

"Lorelai," he growled, circling the counter to grab an order from the pass-through.

"A themed road trip," she chirped, turning in her stool to track his progress.

Luke very nearly dropped the plate he was carrying. "A what?" He deposited the plate in front of Babette and barked, "Enjoy."

"Oh, honey," Babette said, her fingers clamping down on his forearm like a vice. "You're just the sweetest little thing, taking our Lorelai on a road trip!"

Grimacing, Luke freed his arm from her clutches. "I am not sweet," he told Babette. "And," he continued, pointing at Lorelai with his order pad, "there is no road trip."

"Luke!"

Luke ignored her, scribbling down Miss Patty's order. He breezed right by Lorelai, around the counter, and into the backroom. 

"Oh, Luuuuke," she sang, following him into the kitchen.

"Hey!" Luke yelped. "No customers back here."

"Hey, Lorelai," Caesar greeted with a cheerful wave of the spatula.

"Morning, Caesar. Nice eggs."

Luke put his hands on his hips, ignoring the little voice in his head -- a voice that sounded remarkably like Jess -- that told him he looked like a fussy old schoolmarm. "You can't be back here."

"I'm not a customer," Lorelai shot back, swiping a home fry.

Luke stared. "You're not?"

"Nope," she answered with a sunny smile. "I'm not back here in my customer capacity. I'm here as the girlfriend."

"The girlfriend," Luke echoed.

"Yes, the girlfriend," she agreed, warming to her theme. Lorelai liked to use her hands when she was spinning a farfetched theory, and this morning was no different. She paced in small circles, her wild gestures punctuating her words as she babbled. "The girlfriend, you see, is not here about the food or about the service. The girlfriend has no worries about whether those eggs are being scrambled or..." She frowned. "Whatever other kinds of eggs there are. Oh, no. The girlfriend cares only about her boyfriend."

Luke couldn't quite contain the snort.

She glared at him. "It's true. And because the girlfriend is not back here to complain but only to support, there are no limits placed upon her, no restricted areas, no--Ow!" 

"Stop stealing the home fries," Luke ordered, tossing the spatula back onto the countertop. 

"Oooh," Lorelai leaned in and skimmed a palm down his rib cage. "The boyfriend wants to play schoolmaster."

"Lorelai!" Luke whirled around and fixed Caesar with a glare. 

Still snickering, Caesar gave a little wave and said, "I'm taking a cigarette break."

Luke took his place, manning the grill, and Lorelai wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. She rested her cheek against his shoulder and he could hear the amusement in her voice when she said, "I promise the food won't be contaminated by my lascivious comments."

"Still," he countered, even as his free hand landed atop hers, "you shouldn't be back here."

Her arms squeezed tight, then released, and he glanced over to find her smirking up at him. "Do I have to explain the girlfriend thing again?"

"Please don't."

"You're adorable when you're all grouchy."

"I'm not grouchy."

She laughed aloud at that, then asked, "Hey, Luke, what do you think of George W. Bush?"

"Oh, _that_ guy," Luke started, but Lorelai just laughed harder.

"No, you're not grouchy," she snickered.

"In that particular case, I'd call it honest outrage."

Lorelai nodded. "True." She glanced down at her watch. "Damn, I need to go."

"Damn," Luke repeated dryly.

"You be nice," Lorelai warned. "And later today..."

He recognized *that* tone. He loved that particular tone of voice, and he ignored the eggs long enough to face her fully. "Yeah?"

"Later..." She moved quickly, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. "I'll have some suggested itineraries for our themed road trip. You coming over tonight?"

"Lorelai--"

"I just need to fine tune some of the themes."

Luke felt the cold mantle of dread settle on his shoulders. "Fine tune the -- Lorelai, what the hell are you--?"

But she gave him a finger wave and slipped out. Since Kirk's eggs were past over-medium and well on their way to over-hard, he couldn't really go haring after her.

***

All day, whenever Luke remembered Lorelai's themed road trip, his jaw tightened and his shoulders tensed up and he started to snap at the customers. Because his girlfriend was certifiable, and God only knew what she'd come up with. Worst part was, he knew that no matter how insane her plans, he'd end up agreeing.

Because he was _that_ in love with her.

Didn't mean she wasn't driving him crazy, of course, and when she breezed into the diner as the late afternoon faded into evening, he fixed her with a glare. "Caesar," he called. "I'm taking a break. You," he said, pointing at Lorelai, "come with me."

"Why, Luke," she answered, stopping short just inside the door and raising her voice. "I thought we talked about this."

"Lorelai," he ground out, because he wasn't sure where she was going with this, but he did _not_ trust that wickedly innocent look or that saccharine sweet tone of voice. 

She stayed right where she was, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper now that everyone *else* in the diner had shut up to listen in. "I know you said four times a day is normal," she confessed, moving slowly toward him, "but you could at least let me catch my breath before--"

"All right," he interrupted, hoping to God he wasn't actually blushing. He stalked over to her and grabbed her by the hand. "Let's go."

She came willingly, though she made it look like he was dragging her, trailing one hand out behind her and shooting a mournful glance toward the counter. "Coffee," she moaned. "Please, Luke, I need _something_ to help me keep up with you."

"Lorelai!" Luke made the mistake of glancing furtively at the customers and caught Miss Patty's speculative look.

"My, my, Luke," Miss Patty drawled. "If you're ever single, you give me a call."

Lorelai didn't quite manage to smother her giggles, so she stepped forward and buried her face in Luke's shoulder. Luke didn't know whether to kiss her or kill her, which was a pretty common dilemma for him. But the disturbing expression on Miss Patty's face propelled him out of the room, Lorelai in tow.

She raised her voice as they reached the stairs. "Stop touching me there!"

Luke yanked her down the hallway and into his apartment, where she leaned against the wall and laughed. 

He crossed his arms and glowered. "Very funny."

"If you could see your face," she gasped.

Luke glowered some more. "If Miss Patty grabs my ass again, I am holding you responsible."

"Oh, please," she scoffed. "I just did wonders for your reputation."

"My reputation was just fine without any help from the Gilmore Dramatists' Society."

Then she stepped closer, those delicate hands of her sliding up and around his neck to knock off his baseball hat and tangle in his hair, and as usual, his anger began to dissipate. Lorelai pulled him flush against her. "Ravish me and it won't be a lie."

Not the worst idea he'd ever heard, so he closed the distance between them and kissed her with serious intent, his hands slipping underneath her clothes. Then he remembered the look on Miss Patty's face and stiffened. And not in a good way. "Wait," he hissed, pulling away. "We can't."

Lorelai gave his an apartment an exaggerated scan. "Because the hobbits that live in your closet would be offended?"

"Because there's a dinerful of people down there who'd *know*."

She blinked. "So?"

"So," Luke answered indignantly, "that's weird, knowing Miss Patty's down there picturing--" He broke off, gesturing wildly between them.

"Or," Lorelai suggested, "another way to look at it is that whatever we do or don't do, they're going to _think_ we're up here having sex."

Luke's resolution faltered when she grabbed fistfuls of his flannel shirt to yank him closer. "My way," she continued, nearly purring, "we actually have a little fun."

He tried to come up with a decent counterargument, but even after a year, she was addictive. One touch and he needed more and more. So he slid a hand along her waist and started to pull her shirt up. "You make a very good point."

Luke's flannel shirt was somewhere over near the couch, he was standing on her shirt, and she'd unbuttoned his jeans when the sound of footsteps in the hallway registered in his lust-addled mind. 

"Luke?" Rory called. "Mom?" She gave a very tentative knock.

They both froze.

"Oh, shit," Lorelai mouthed, eyes wide. "Yeah, Rory," she called out in a strangled voice. "Hang on a sec."

"Oh," Rory answered. "Oh, I'm sorry. Miss Patty said--"

"I'll kill her," Luke muttered, trying to button his jeans and pick up Lorelai's shirt at the same time.

"Don't worry about it, kid," Lorelai yelled to Rory, grimacing as she raced around the apartment. When she careened past Luke, he looped an arm through hers and pulled her to a stop, dangling her shirt in front of her. "Oh, thank God," she murmured, slipping it on.

Rory sounded very embarrassed. "I'll just see you at home."

"No!" Lorelai yelled. She modulated her voice and tried again. "No, just--" She turned to Luke and held her arms out. "Am I presentable?" she hissed.

He gave her a once over and nodded, smoothing down a mussed bit of her hair. "Yeah." Before she could reach for the door, he gestured at his too-tight jeans and said, "Gimme a second."

Lorelai started to grin. "You stay here," she suggested, rescuing his flannel from the arm of the couch and handing it to him. 

"Oh, this is very funny," he muttered, thrusting his arms through the sleeves and pulling the shirt closed. "It was _your_ bright idea in the first place."

"Oh, and like you're so offended that I can't keep my hands off you," she snorted.

Rory's voice sounded very tentative when she said, "Should I just--?"

"No," Lorelai answered. She leaned up and gave Luke a fleeting kiss. "You'll come by in a while?"

Luke grimaced. "Yeah."

Lorelai paused at the door for a moment and took a calming breath, then pulled it open and stepped into the hall. "Hey, kid. I didn't expect you home for a couple hours."

Luke could hear Rory's amused laugh, then her sardonic, "So I see."

"Oh, God," Luke groaned. 

***

Luke arrived at the Gilmore household with two large cups of coffee, two cheeseburgers, a turkey sandwich, and a very strong feeling of trepidation. Rory answered the door, looking as embarrassed as he felt. 

"Hey," he greeted.

"Hey." After a moment, she seemed to remember herself. "Oh. Here, let me help you with that." 

Luke relinquished the cups with a smirk. "You just want the coffee."

"True," she agreed with a little laugh, and the awkwardness faded as she swung the door open wider. "C'mon in."

Luke nodded his thanks and turned automatically toward the living room. 

"Kitchen table," Rory said.

Puzzled, Luke paused and glanced at her. "What?"

She indicated the kitchen with an exaggerated tilt of her head. "Other way."

Luke blinked. "But you don't eat meals at the table."

Laughing, Lorelai stepped into view in the kitchen. "You're correct, oh wise one, meals are eaten on the couch while worshipping at the altar of the cable gods." She hooked a thumb toward the room behind her. "But the kitchen table is for projects.

"Oh, God."

Rory watched their interplay with a small smile. She'd seemed wary about their relationship at first, and that had made _Luke_ wary. Because he figured Lorelai and Rory would talk about... _things_ , and if Rory was waiting for the other shoe to drop... 

It had been a nerve-wracking couple of months. But Rory's pensive, expectant looks had become more and more infrequent, and at this point, Luke was pretty sure she approved. 

Still, she usually bowed out of conversations or arguments between the two of them, watching with quiet amusement. Tonight, thought, she was participating. Her grin echoed her mother's when she said, "Projects are fun, Luke!"

"They're really not."

Rory looped an arm through his and pulled him into the kitchen. Luke halted in the archway to gape at the haphazard pile of DVDs, videos, and CDs on the table. "What the--"

"Is that dinner?" Lorelai interrupted, deftly snatching the bag away from him. The paper crinkled as she opened it and peered inside, but Luke was too busy scanning movie titles to pay much attention. 

Frowning, Luke lifted a DVD from the pile and held it aloft. " _Mr. Smith Goes to Washington_?" 

Lorelai and Rory exchanged amused looks. "Told you," Lorelai said.

Luke narrowed his eyes. "Told her what?"

Calmly unpacking the food, Rory explained, "We had a little bet going over what you'd reach for first -- a political movie or Frank Sinatra."

"Frank Sinatra?" Luke echoed, suspicion clutching him with icy fingers. 

"A lady doesn’t wander all over the room, and blow on some other guy's dice," Lorelai sang, lifting her eyebrows suggestively. "Stick with me, baby, I’m the guy that you came in with; luck, be a lady tonight," she belted out before turning back to the counter and fiddling with the coffeemaker. 

"I brought you coffee," Luke pointed out a little bit peevishly. 

But Lorelai ignored him, pulling the coffee pot from the burner and pouring the hot water it contained into a giant mug. She dropped a tea bag into it and turned to offer it to Luke. "And I made you tea."

"Oh." He accepted the mug, staring at it in awe for a moment, half-expecting it to disappear. Belatedly, he gave Lorelai a smile. "Thanks."

She beamed at him. "You're welcome. Now sit." She slid into the seat across from him and reached for her burger. "Mmmmm," she moaned, her mouth full.

Rory nodded. "I concur."

Absently, Luke took a bite of his sandwich, still scanning the odd collection of pop culture on the table. "You know, most people plan trips using silly things like maps and guidebooks."

Lorelai gave a delicate snort. "Have you not heard the Europe story?"

"Many, many times," Luke answered, "but a weekend vacation is not the same thing as your walking tour of Europe's cheapest youth hostels."

"I know," Lorelai answered. "We have _way_ less time. That's why we need to pick the right theme."

Luke sighed. He could already tell he was going to lose this battle, but he gave a valiant effort anyway. "Or we could simply chose a destination and drive there."

With a sad shake of her head, Lorelai turned to her daughter. "You see what I mean? No imagination. No sense of adventure."

"You've got imagination enough for both of us."

Lorelai turned a blinding smile his way. "Sweet talker." She reached for some fries. "Rory, explain to the poor man."

"Luke," Rory said seriously, placing the remnants of her decimated cheeseburger back into its container. "You need a theme. Because we are kind, generous women, we have several potential themes for you to consider, but you should feel free to suggest your own."

Luke took a bite so he wouldn't have to answer.

"You pick a city," Rory continued, "and we give you your choice of themes. For example..." She gave Lorelai an expectant look.

Lorelai swallowed quickly. "Manhattan!"

Sounding disturbingly like a game show host, Rory answered, "Excellent choice!" From the pile, Rory extracted four CDs, two DVDs, and a videotape. "New York, New York," she sang, waving the Sinatra CD in the air. "Relive the heyday of the Rat Pack in lovely Manhattan!"

Luke shook his head. "The Rat Pack hung out in New York?"

Rory and Lorelai exchanged a look. "Sure."

Reaching over the table, Lorelai snagged another CD from Rory's small pile and shouted, "No sleep 'til--"

Rory joined in and they both yelled, "Brooklyn!"

Luke looked back and forth between his insane girlfriend and her equally nutty daughter. "Oh, God."

***

Forty minutes later, Luke's horror had given way to numbed acceptance. No way was he getting out of a themed weekend; the best he could hope for was a destination/theme combination that didn't leave him in a state of terror.

He was not, under any circumstances, agreeing to the _Legal Blonde_ tour of better Boston-area spas. Nor was there a chance in hell for Rory's suggested _Legal Blonde 2: Red, White & Blonde_ tour of Capitol Hill in Washington. 

"I like Philly a lot," Rory said, and Luke supposed he should be paying closer attention so he could jump in when they hit on the least psychotic theme.

Lorelai nodded seriously. "Very historic."

That didn't sound to bad, actually. Luke perked up. "The Liberty Bell. Constitution Hall--" He frowned, taking in their amused expressions. "That's not what you mean at all, is it?"

Lorelai patted his hand kindly. "Carey Grant and Kate Hepburn."

Luke shrugged. "They lived in Philadelphia?"

Rory put her face in her hands and groaned. " _The Philadelphia Story_ , Luke, from Hollywood's Golden Age."

Luke heaved a sigh. "Yeah, that's historic."

"We could do a creepy, grey, Bruce-Willis-in- _The Sixth Sense_ Philly," Lorelai suggested.

"Or mournful, politically marginalized _Philadelphia_ ," Rory countered. "That one has its own theme song."

"Bruuuuuuce," Lorelai intoned.

Utterly lost, Luke decided it was better not to ask. He just sat back to watch the Lorelai and Rory Show.

"D.C. might be fun," Lorelai said. "We could meet with paranoid informants in underground parking garages."

Rory frowned. " _X-Files_ or _All the President's Men_?"

Lorelai considered her choice, head tilted so her long hair cascaded down to one side. "Hmmm, could go either way."

"Fox Mulder's cuter," Rory said.

"Yes, but he's in love with Scully."

Rory nodded, conceding the point.

Lorelai's eyes widened and she turned a suggestive grin Luke's way. "We," she told him excitedly, "could stay at the Watergate and have a tawdry affair!"

"Mom!" Rory exclaimed.

"We'd have to be married before we could have an affair," Luke pointed out reasonably. Except he hadn't thought about what he was saying before he opened his mouth. And all of a sudden Rory was looking at him with surprised bemusement, and Lorelai was just staring at him in wide-eyed shock.

Well, what d'ya know, Luke thought, there's more than one thing that can leave Lorelai Gilmore speechless.

As the silence edged toward uncomfortable, Luke considered his options. He certainly hadn't meant to bring up marriage, though he'd thought about it more than once over the past couple months. He'd never figured on asking her accidentally over the remains of her cheeseburger in her kitchen while her _daughter_ watched, but a year with Lorelai had taught him a little something about seizing the moment.

As they stared at each other over the table, Luke decided that it was simple -- he loved her and he wanted to marry her and now was as good a time as any to tell her. Leaning back in his chair, Luke allowed himself a small grin and said, "There's a theme for you." He kept his gaze on those gorgeous eyes of hers. "How about we save the road trip for some other time and get married instead?"

Now that he'd said it out loud, his smug certainty deserted him. Holy shit, Luke thought, what am I doing? Lorelai probably expected candles and flowers and dancing and -- damn it -- a _ring_ for this particular conversation. And when did the room get so quiet and so lacking in air? 

Luke was having trouble breathing and he couldn't take his eyes off of Lorelai, who reached out blindly for her daughter.

"Kid?" Lorelai asked, her voice trembling, her gaze locked with Luke's. "You okay with this?" 

Rory's nodded emphatically and said, "Yes!" for good measure.

Lorelai started to smile at him as she stood abruptly from the table. "You're serious?"

Luke realized he, too, was standing even though he couldn't recall moving. Still couldn't breathe very well, but he swallowed and said, "Yeah." His voice was pretty damn unsteady, too. "You're saying yes?"

Lorelai cupped his face his her hands and nodded. "Yeah," she answered softly. Leaning up, she pressed a soft, heartfelt kiss to his mouth. 

His hands landed on her hips, sliding around to her lower back, pulling her hard against him. She hugged him back, her arms twined tightly around his neck. Luke realized belatedly that he was laughing a little bit, and that Lorelai was crying.

She didn't let him go, but edged sideways to reach for Rory. "C'mere, kid!"

Luke glanced over at Rory, who looked caught between shock and happiness. She rose from her seat and stumbled over to them, and Luke slung an arm around her shoulders briefly before backing off. Lorelai's fingers kept hold of his flannel shirt, not letting him retreat too far, even as she and Rory hugged and squealed.

After a moment, Lorelai pulled back and beamed at Luke. They were back to doing that staring thing, where they'd just lock gazes and grin. Those gorgeous blue eyes of hers were sparkling with joy and mischief as she said, "Rory, we're obviously going to need a new theme."

Luke groaned, because he knew what was coming next.

Lorelai nodded slowly. "Vegas, baby!"

"Mom," Rory protested, laughing. "Grandma would _kill_ you!"

"Well, duh," Lorelai answered, flashing her daughter a wicked grin. "We just won't tell her about the Flying Elvises!"

Luke figured they'd get married in the damn town square, but arguing with Lorelai over a tacky Vegas wedding wasn't a bad way to spend an evening, all things considered. Following Lorelai's lead, Luke sat back down and scooted his chair a little closer to her. 

Rory and Lorelai were debating the relative merits of the Flying Elvises and the Flying Elvii, but when they paused for breath, Luke held up a hand. They turned curious gazes his way, and Luke said, "I just want to make it clear that under no circumstances am I dressing up as a pirate to get married."

Lorelai nodded with mock seriousness. "Fair enough. Hey, do you think a drive-through wedding qualifies as a road trip?"

THE END

Author's note: Lara's requested elements were: 1. comedy; 2. L/L's first year anniversary; and 3. road trip.


End file.
